April 29, 2009

It's been a relief to have a female judge on American Idol with gravitas -- substance and style.

Kara DioGuardi, singer/songwriter/producer manager, grew up in New York, the daughter of a Republican Congressman, studied political science at Duke, planned to go to law school, but then took a job at Billboard Magazine selling advertising. At one point, she had her own record deal, but it was as a songwriter that she's made it big.

If (when?) I were to spend 15 minutes with Ms. DioGuardi, here's what I would ask her:

1. You seem to have had many dreams. Do you have just one dream? Or has your dream changed over time? How have you right-sized your dreams? Or juggled them?

2. Political science? Law school? How did you get from there to here? How have your studies and interest in law informed your role as a songwriter/producer?

3. You are expressive and articulate. Kind, but direct. Surprisingly direct for a woman. Were you always comfortable saying what you want to say? Why?

4. You've indicated that becoming invisible is an important part of collaborating, to helping a singer write the right song. How do you do this? Now that you are a household name, how has the collaborative process changed?

5. In my '15 for 15' series, I recently interviewed Shane Battier, a fellow Duke alum, who has been described as Lego: when he's on the court, things magically work. Is this true of you? Is there any part of what you do that is integral to the songwriting process, but other's don't seem to recognize or even value it?

6. Because of your American Idol gig, you are a 'kingmaker turned king'. In dare to dream parlance, you've shifted from hero of support to hero. What about this toggle has been a boon? A bane?

7. What does your dare to dream team look like? Who are the 2-3 people that have been crucial to your success and why were they so important?

April 25, 2009

"I don't even have the time or energy to hear myself think a thought, how can I possibly 'dare to dream'?"

If this is your current plight, dear reader, I dedicate Janika Dillon's guest post (see her bio at the end of the entry) to you. She begins:

This week I've become a rebellious hermit.

Since last October, our family has been planning a spring break trip to visit friends and historical sites in Pennsylvania, a trip for which I had:

Researched where to eat, what to see (and best day to see it), entrance fees, hours of operation, parking fees, best driving routes, etc.

Made a neat pile of all my research and had a packing/things-to-do list two pages long.

Checked out children's books and tapes about Gettysburg, The Statue of Liberty, Valley Forge, and more.

Selected travel friendly activities for my children and bought lots of snacks.

Did all the laundry, packed all the bags, vacuumed & cleaned out the car, cleaned out the fridge, cleaned the whole house.

Are you tired yet? I was.

Minutes before our planned departure I told my husband, "You know, I really don't want to go on this trip. I just want to stay home all by myself for five days." He quickly agreed, discussed with our four kids, and within minutes they were gone. Without me.

At first I felt guilty and slightly rebellious--who am I to opt out of the family vacation? I love my kids, was looking forward to some family time and was eager for them to learn about our country’s history with me as their tour guide!

But I really did need a break. It had been three and a half years since I had the whole house to myself for a few days, and in fact, what I'd wanted last Christmas more than anything was "12 hours by myself in my own house!"

Once I gave a million kisses and waved good-bye, I found myself suddenly alone in a perfectly clean and quiet house. I had no desire to venture out of the house; I just wanted to luxuriate in time to myself. I made a long list of things I wanted to do, including some sewing, organizing and keeping in touch with loved ones.

I called my 88 year-old grandparents for a delightful hour-long phone call. A few minutes later a dear high school friend called me, saying "I just saw your phone number in my book and thought I should call you." We spoke for two hours, our friendship never missing a beat. I chatted with another out-of-town friend who happened to be coming to Boston this week; we've planned a day's worth of lovely activities.

I began to sort through files on my desk, finding long-forgotten scribbled notes on tiny scraps of paper with phone numbers and emails of friends I meant to contact months ago. One friend had a baby in December--still haven't been to see her. Another newly-discovered friend is an amazing artist, mother and person--someone I'd love to know better. My husband and four children going in different directions had left a wake of neglected friendships and missed opportunities.

More than that, I had filled my mind with so many to-do lists in the midst of mothering chaos, I had forgotten how to hear my own voice over the past few months. When a quiet moment did come, I didn't how to use my free time because I didn't really even know what I wanted to do.

With everyone gone, I thought I would feel lonely, that I would listen to books on tape all day to keep me company. But I'm not. I love the silence and the chance I have to hear my thoughts, to wonder what what I will think up next, to wake up early, my mind spinning with new ideas.

Just this morning I woke up with a plan for how to improve my town’s Patriots Day celebration. Paul Revere rides through our town each year complete with a mini-parade, a speech from the Mayor, the high school band and lunch at the Revolutionary-era funeral home. But because the crowd (mostly comprised of young families and grandparents) waits about an hour between the time that the mini-parade is over and when Paul Revere actually rides in, the high school band runs out of songs to play and an awkward dead space ensues.

My early-morning idea was to involve the city historical society, the city family network, the local top-notch university and other city and business organizations to sponsor several historical activity tables for the children to learn more about Paul Revere and the history of our town. I mapped out the layout, supplies, partners, activities and funding in less than an hour and realized that I felt so strongly about this project that, if needed (gasp! How scary is that to my shy self!), I could go talk to the mayor, business owners, historical society president, or whoever I needed to help get this event rolling.

It was so refreshing to discover that I felt strongly about something that I was willing to step outside of my comfort zone to make it happen. In my normal 'non-rebellious, non-hermetic' life, I often find myself pushing away really good ideas because I just don’t have time to develop or implement them. Maybe, just maybe, this time away from the noise will allow me to set some priorities for myself until the next time I take an extended break.

Joseph Campbell wrote, "You must have a room, or certain hour of the day or so, where you don’t know what was in the newspapers that morning, you don't know who your friends are, you don't know what you owe anybody, you don't know what anybody owes to you. This is a place where you can experience and bring forth what you are and what you might be. This is the place of creative incubation. At first you may find that nothing happens there. But if you have a sacred place and use it, something eventually will happen."

As I carried on coherent conversations with my long-lost friends, many were at first shocked I would stay home, but then commented enthusiastically, “Oh, that is exactly what I want to do!”

It has been my perfect stay-cation and I highly recommend it.

Kudos to Janika for 'asking for what she wanted'; kudos to her husband and children for saying 'yes'.

For Mother's Day, your birthday, or even next year's Patriot's Day, why not ask for a Stay-cation? Everyone leaves, and you magically remain home alone.

P.S. In the spirit of full disclosure (she says with tongue firmly in cheek), I've purchased more than several pieces of art from Swallowfield, and plan to purchase many more in the coming years. Jennifer Judd-McGee's art makes me happy!

***

More about Janika (She asked me to shorten, but it was far too interesting!)

Janika Dillon originated in Ithaca, New York where her parents were in graduate school. She spent her childhood roaming her Wichita, Kansas neighborhood on a sparkly blue banana seat Schwinn bicycle and organizing club meetings in the tops of trees. Her teenage years were spent in Provo, Utah where she played violin in the orchestra, designed and sewed the costumes for school musicals and Shakespearean plays and dreamed of traveling to Europe. As a student at BYU she studied Communications and German and had the time of her life studying abroad in Vienna, Austria and Frankfurt, Germany. Two hours before departing for an 18 month church mission to South Korea, she turned in the final draft of her honors thesis about noted 19th Century woman's suffragist Emmeline B. Wells.

One month after returning home from her mission in Korea, she returned to work as an intern at a small manufacturing company in Seoul. The fascinating experiences with the women in this office and other companies she eventually interned at inspired her masters thesis on "Women in the Workplace in Korea" for her degree in Organizational Behavior and International Development. Janika worked in Exec Ed for a few years before moving to Boston with her husband James and deciding to stay home full time with her four young children.

April 18, 2009

Hear, hear to all of you that sent me the clip of Susan Boyle. Some have said that Simon Cowell staged this. I wouldn't put it past him. But does it matter? Either way Susan Boyle took a risk.

If the heckling she experienced in this seven-minute clip is any gauge, Susan's been dealing with naysayers all her life. At 47, that's a lot of naysaying.

Yet, there she was -- and is -- out on stage.

Daring to dream.

***

Janika Dillon was kind enough to share her thoughts with me in real-time. Here's her take:

Susan Boyle is so ordinary-looking--and well past the age of most up-and-coming stars, yet she totally knocked their socks off! How many amazing talents are hidden behind average looks, age, and 'small villages'. Though who knows what will ever happen with her singing, she had the courage to try out for the show, get on the stage, and do what she does best.

The audience was horrible to heckle her, but I guess that's the reality when striving for a dream for which we don't look the part. We may be 'too old', 'too busy with young children', 'too inexperienced', 'too poor'. Some of these things we can change, many we cannot. The quest is to accept our plight, determine if it is still worth trying for the dream, and then navigate our way through the obstacles.

I know a woman in her early 50s out West who is getting a doctorate in clinical psychology. She is amazingly talented and would make an incredible psychologist. Unfortunately she has received little support from the faculty, while enduring many unkind comments about her age. Nor did she get an offer for an internship even though she applied and interviewed throughout the country.

In casting about for a way to help decision makers look past her age and see her abilities, she finally decides to rely on her extensive social network. After a month of calls, visits and e-mails, my friend landed one of the country's most prestigious internships. She is thrilled to have her chance on the stage, and I think she will be prove just as effective (if not more so) as her younger colleagues.

Thank you Janika for guest-posting on the fly; I look forward to many more posts.

What did you think?

Why did Susan Boyle move you?

Click here to read what Boston Globe reporter Michael Paulson had to say.

April 12, 2009

You are cordially invited to a Mother's Day concert featuring Macy Robison on May 8 in Weston, MA.

This will be a cabaret-style performance titled Children will Listen: Reflections on Mothering, comprised largely of Broadway songs about mothers and mothering, including Just a Housewife from Working and The Hardest Part of Love from Children of Eden by Stephen Schwartz.

Macy Robison is a music educator in Shrewsbury, MA, was a Young Ambassador at Brigham Young University, recently directed the Boston, MA musical Savior of the World and performed in the first casting of that show in Salt Lake during the 2002 Winter Olympics.

Macy first performed Children Will Listen in January at Fusion, a salon-style discussion group to which I belong. As she sang of her longing for children, grief at the sudden death of her own mother, and joy at the birth of her son, there wasn't a dry eye amongst us.

I can't think of a better way to celebrate Mother's Day than by attending this event with women I love and admire -- I do hope you'll join me!

P.S. After the Fusion event, I asked Macy if I might accompany her on May 8. If you know of my love-hate relationship with music, my asking to participate should give you some sense of how moved I was by Macy's performance. Her prior accompanists were kind enough to share this privilege with me. Lots of practicing to do -- but I can't wait!

P.P.S. Those of you that are Resolutionary Challenge alums, don't forget that I will be hosting a luncheon May 8 at noon at Henrietta's Table in Harvard Square.

April 08, 2009

About a year ago, Janna Taylor, a Manhattan entrepreneur, told one of her stories in the entry If You Get Defensive, You're Getting Close. In this post, she shares her thoughts on the myth of The Handless Maiden. As with the myth of Psyche, The Handless Maiden chronicles feminine psychological development (e.g. she preserves her uniquely feminine nature even as she makes something happen). Note too that while some tasks along the journey can be delegated, some cannot.

***

The The Handless Maiden is a fable first introduced to me through Clarissa Pinkola Estes’ seminal workWomen Who Run With the Wolves, a book that explores messages about women’s nature in myths and fables. This myth, in particular, hearkens to living our dreams even as we belligerently scream, “But, I can’t!”

As the tale begins, a young maiden’s hands have been severed by the devil. After an intense journey of physical and psychological travail, she finds safety and peace, and eventually marries a good, devoted king and births a healthy baby. But one day, “…the young queen goes to the well. As she bends over to draw water, her child falls into the well. The young queen begins to shriek, and a spirit appears and asks why she does not rescue her child. ‘Because I have no hands!’ she cries. ‘Try,’ says the spirit, and as the maiden puts her arms in the water, reaching toward her child, her hands regenerate then and there, and the child is saved.”

Like the handless maiden, we have dream “babies” come along. We birth them amidst trials and challenges, and carry them close to our hearts. But because of circumstances in or out of our control, sometimes our dreams start to slip away, losing our sense of can-do-it-ness. This happens not only because of the inevitability of distractions, but also by devaluing our dreams by saying they take too much time, attention, sacrifice.

We feel hand-less.

Mercifully and benevolently, however, there is a piece of our self, just like the maiden, who knows we must try. Try even though it looks impossible. Try even though everyone, including ourselves, thinks we might be crazy and don’t have the skills.

In the process of reaching deep within the well of ourselves to save our dreams, internal and external naysayers notwithstanding, we get back our can-do-it-ness.

We grow the hands.

As you have plunged your hands deep into your psyche to save your dream, what has grown or even re-grown?

P.S. from Whitney -- I find the focus on hands especially poignant, perhaps because I am a pianist by training. I was also intrigued by Gerald and Lindsay Saltzman's commentary in Marketing Metaphoria. They write, "everyday conversation is rife with expressions that equate hands with the deep metaphor of connection...'Lend me a hand', to ask someone for help. 'Taking someone's hand in marriage' connects us to a social institution as well as a highly personal commitment...Hands create art, movies, clothing, books, houses, and so. We value handmade crafts because of their connection to the jeweler, weaver, potter...bestowing handmade gifts is 'like giving a part of [our]selves to another."

April 04, 2009

The destiny of the world is determined less by the battles that are lost and won than by the stories it loves and believes in. Harold Goddard

I love books.

I love bookstores.

I love to gift books.

I love to read.

By myself.

And especially with my children.

I eagerly read The Amaranth Enchantment to my daughter Miranda. It was especially fun to brainstorm with her around a list of questions for Mother-Daughter book clubs. When author Julie Berry posts some permutation of what we've written, I'll include the link.

I was also thrilled when my son David finally started reading Ender's Game, a book that has long been a favorite of my husband's and of mine. It took some 'righteous bribery' to get David to read the book (e.g. you can't play your video game until we've read a chapter together). But he finally started, and once he started, he didn't stop; a week later, he's on the second read-through.

There aren't many things that I LOVE, WANT to do with my children...

But when it comes to reading, my children aren't doing the asking, I am.

Mormon women writing YA Lit is at the confluence of several cultural dynamics: love of learning, an emphasis on stay-at-home mom-ing, and a desire for self-expression, but in snatches.

Love of learningIn our canon of scriptures there’s a verse (Doctrine & Covenants 93:36) which reads “The glory of God is intelligence, or, in other words, light and truth.” This verse is not only oft-quoted, it is embraced. It has been said that Mormonism is one of the few religions for which religiosity and education are positively, rather than negatively, correlated. More recently, church leader President Hinckley said, “Get all the education you can.” From a very young age, we are taught to love and seek out learning.

Emphasis on Stay-At-Hom Mom-mingParenting is important to us. We view God as our Father, which is why you will so often hear Mormons refer to God, not as God, but as Heavenly Father especially when we pray, at least that is how I refer to Him. We place an especially high priority on mothering, on rearing and nurturing children, and doing so as stay-at-home moms.

Because nearly all parents want their children to believe what they believe, to love what they love, many Mormon mothers instinctively gravitate toward children’s books that clearly delineate between right and wrong. One of my happiest childhood memories is of my mother reading to me. My best-loved books are, in retrospect, those with a strong moral bent. They include A Wrinkle in Time by Madeline L’Engle and The Lion, Witch and the Wardrobe, books which I’ve read to my own children.

Self-expression in snatchesMany Mormon women have interests, hobbies, and an ambition to build or create something. Money isn’t necessarily a constraint, but time is. Whatever form self-expression takes, it has to happen during discretionary time - when the kids are napping, sleeping – at school.

Do you enjoy reading to your children? What have you loved reading to them?

For those of you that participated in the Resolutionary Challenge, did you notice that when books came up, we couldn't stop talking?

About this blog

When I took a sabbatical from Wall Street to pursue a different dream and help others live theirs, I learned that women in the U.S. may be placated, even pampered, but because we aren't dreaming, we are also desperate and depressed. Drawing on a variety of sources, ranging from academic studies to pop culture, dare to dream encourages us to dream. And then to act on our dreams.